


Bug-a-boo Boogaloo

by Cat_Moon



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Aliens, Case Fic, Creepy, Dreams and Nightmares, Established Relationship, Halloween, Love, M/M, Monsters, Mystery, Romance, Song Lyrics, Spooky, Team, Tropes, Weirdness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-02 22:41:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21169061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cat_Moon/pseuds/Cat_Moon
Summary: Something is stalking Jack and Ianto.  Defeating it just might take more than they're willing to give.





	1. Unreality Made Real

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the creature prompt, "Boogeyman," at [](https://spook-me.dreamwidth.org/profile)[](https://spook-me.dreamwidth.org/)**spook_me**  
and also for the prompt "Metallica Songs," at [](https://ficlet-zone.dreamwidth.org/profile)[](https://ficlet-zone.dreamwidth.org/)**ficlet_zone**  
A little bit creepy, a little bit bizarre, with a dash of crack and some trope. Hopefully not too schmaltzy. Separated into several parts to increase the susssssspense.  
Warning: Don't try to say the title of this story five times fast.  
Photo prompts provided by Spook_Me.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Playlist to compliment the story can be found here:
> 
> [Bugaboo Boogaloo](https://8tracks.com/mscatmoon/bugaboo-boogaloo?utm_medium=referral&utm_content=mix-page&utm_campaign=embed_button) from [MsCatMoon](http://8tracks.com/mscatmoon?utm_medium=referral&utm_content=mix-page&utm_campaign=embed_button) on [8tracks Radio](https://8tracks.com?utm_medium=referral&utm_content=mix-page&utm_campaign=embed_button).

The deserted building they were walking through echoed eerily with their footsteps. The night seemed somehow darker than normal, as if no light could penetrate the tomb-like interior. The windows were up high, and opaque from years of accumulated grime.

Ianto suppressed a shudder, gripping his gun tighter and keeping close behind Jack. Rift alerts in the middle of the night were his least favorite, especially this type. The unknown was especially dangerous. A few Weevils they could handle and still get back to the Hub for a quickie and a few more winks before morning.

How could their footsteps be getting louder? Some urge compelled him to count them. One, two... three.

“Jack!” he hissed urgently. “We're not alone.”

Ianto felt more than saw Jack pull his Webley. The torch beam had all it could do to pierce the abject blackness, he would have to rely on sense memory to keep track of his Captain. It was a good thing they worked so well together, moving in tandem without conscious effort. He tried not to imagine what might be lying in wait somewhere ahead.

As they moved further into the building, a noise began to insert itself into his consciousness. Barely discernible at first, it gradually got louder until it coalesced into a pounding beat.

“What the hell is that?!” Jack demanded.

Ianto cocked his head, listening carefully. It was absurd, but still slightly terrifying. It was _Enter Sandman._

“Metallica,” Ianto answered, head bobbing to the beat. “Cheerful,” he pronounced, meaning the opposite. “Take my hand, we're off to never-never land,” he quoted.

“Not funny,” Jack pronounced. “When I find out where it's coming from, I'm going to shoot it.”

Jack never was much of a heavy metal fan. Ianto wasn't crazy about Metallica either, but he had to admit this was one of their best. If you were listening at your flat, during the day, safe from monsters that live under the bed at night.

Was it a message? A warning?

_Sleep with one eye open, gripping your pillow tight..._

He remembered first hearing _Enter Sandman_ as a young child and being terrified to go to bed that night, convinced monsters were hiding in his closet. He'd ended up creeping into Rhiannon's room and convincing her to let him sleep there on the floor...

As if responding to Jack's critique, the song cut off. Then another one replaced it, even louder. And perversely more alarming.

_Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream, make him the cutest that I've ever seen..._

“Better then?” Ianto asked, smirking.

“Yes, actually.”

Ianto almost jumped in surprise when Jack's hand grabbed his. He barely had time to shove his gun into a pocket before he was being danced around the dark space, his partner singing along with the music.

And then he knew.

“Oh, it's a _dream!_” He couldn't help laughing out loud at the incongruousness of it. “Thank god,” he said, letting himself be twirled. “I'd never live down the embarrassment otherwise.” Maybe he could turn this nightmare into a pleasant if fanciful romp through the outlandish.

“Quite realistic for a dream,” Jack said skeptically, expertly guiding their steps while the singers sang about _come hither_ gleams.

“Not even close,” Ianto scoffed, reversing their positions and dipping Jack for emphasis to his words.

“Well, maybe not...”

Just as suddenly as the music had begun, it cut off, and a loud growl reverberated around the room. Ianto almost dropped Jack, but managed to get them both righted without mishap.

“Um...”

“A dream, you say?” Jack muttered.  
  
“I certainly hope so.”

“But whose? It came from this direction,” Jack started tracking the sound through the warehouse.

Ianto retrieved his gun, knowing Jack had done the same. No sense taking chances. In the world they inhabited, nightmares were real more often than not.

They turned a corner and Ianto nearly ran into Jack when he stopped short. Heart in his throat, he directed the beam of the torch ahead of them, to find the small room they'd entered was filled with piles and piles of sand. It might have been the beach. If there was sun, or water, or happy children making castles.

“Sandman. Got it,” Ianto said wryly. “I'm beginning to see a pattern.”

“How does _that_ fit into your pattern?” Jack wondered, pointing with the beam of his light.

In the middle of the sand was a series of large footprints. Clearly not human, and too big to be any of the harmless animals they might see roaming around Cardiff at night. Some sort of creature, with huge claws.

“I think we can assume that's what's growling,” he said, glancing around nervously.

“I don't know, but I don't want to run into it. You know, I'm intimately familiar with my dreams and I've never had one like _this_ before,” Jack added.

Ianto had to agree. He was also intimately familiar with Jack's nightmares, as well as his own. The monsters they fought in night visions tended to be old foes. All too real demons.

Another growl sounded, louder and closer. They crept cautiously along the wall, trying not to stumble over the shifting sand. The sound was coming from up ahead, around another corner of the maze-like building.

Jack took the lead, gun in one hand and torch in the other, pointing them both at the room in front of them. It looked to be empty.

There was no warning. One second Ianto was heaving a sigh of relief, the other recoiling from a searing pain in his arm. Yelling and pulling back, he aimed his light at the wall beside him just in time to see some sort of grotesque clawed hand retreating back into the brickwork.

“What the hell was that?!” Ianto demanded in a shaky voice, holding his arm. The blood was starting to seep through his jacket.

“Not a dream,” Jack stated. He felt around the wall, but it was solid, unyielding. No hidden seams or latches to be found. When he was done, he turned to Ianto. “Are you okay?”

“Tiptop,” he managed sarcastically.

“Let me see that,” Jack ordered. As he started taking off Ianto's jacket to get at the wound, the ground suddenly disappeared beneath them.

_Trap door_, was Ianto's last thought before everything went dark.

**END OF PART ONE**


	2. Brainstorming

Ianto woke with a jolt that felt like an electric charge. He opened his eyes... to see the ceiling of Jack's underground bunker.

“Thank God,” he breathed. “I was right, just a nightmare.” He rubbed the arm that had been injured in the dream, trying to shake off his unease.

“How did you know? Was I yelling?” Jack asked from beside him.

“Huh—what?”

“My dream, did I wake you?”

A sudden suspicion chilled Ianto. “What was it about?!” he demanded, turning to face his partner... and hissing as a sharp pain went through his arm.

Jack turned on the lamp beside the cot and grabbed his lover's arm. There was a neat row of three scratches on the outside.

They looked at each other.

“I thought you said it was a dream,” Jack said with a disapproving tone as if Ianto was personally responsible for it.

“Creature came through the wall, big claws...”

“Footprints in the sand,” Jack added.

“I guess I was wrong. First time for everything,” he added, trying to keep the dread at bay with humor.

“Owen needs to look at those scratches,” Jack stated, jumping out of bed and grabbing the clothing that was strewn about the floor from where they'd been tossed the night before. “We're going to figure out what the hell is going on.”

Feeling calmed by the confidence in Jack's demeanor, Ianto rose to face the day.

XXX

Jack coped by issuing orders. After ascertaining that they were the only two who'd had any corporeal dreams, he had Owen tend to Ianto's wounds, including taking samples to see if there was any DNA or other substances present. Owen also took blood samples from both men. Tosh was tasked with checking security footage, energy signatures, and computer systems for the previous night in the Hub, looking for any evidence of tampering or visitation. Ianto did what he was best at, research. Going through the archives to see if anything similar had ever happened before, doing internet searches. Gwen was away on her honeymoon, but Jack did call to make sure all was well with her and Rhys. There were no odd dreams to report there either. Whatever it was, seemed to be targeting Jack and Ianto.

Later that afternoon, they gathered in the conference room for a meeting.

“All right, what have we got?” Jack asked in a tone that said somebody better have something.

“A big, fat nothing on my end,” Tosh said regretfully. “Everything was perfectly normal last night.”

“So we're dealing with something that can get inside our minds, and not leave any traces behind,” Jack surmised.

“This wasn't in my mind,” Ianto indicated his bandaged arm.

“Could you have accidentally done it to yourself?” Tosh asked. “Or maybe--” she glanced at Jack but didn't finish the thought.

“Nope,” Owen interjected. “Neither of them had any blood or skin under their nails, and the scratches are too wide and deep to be made with human fingers. No alien DNA either. I'm still running tests though, we might find something yet.”

“There _are_ aliens who can create physical manifestations with the power of their minds,” Jack said thoughtfully, sipping his coffee. He looked to Ianto. “What did you find out?”

Ianto shrugged. “A lot, but I'm not sure any of it is going to help us.”

“Tell us and we can brainstorm,” Tosh suggested.

“Well, I started with the songs we heard and followed them down the rabbit hole. In European folklore, the Sandman is someone who puts people to sleep and brings good dreams by sprinkling sand into their eyes.”

Jack snorted. “_Good_ dreams?!”

“Maybe it's an evil Sandman,” Owen suggested.

“If it is, we have no references in the database for any creature or alien with those characteristics. Jack?”

“Not exactly like anything I've ever come across,” the Captain answered. “But I don't believe in cryptids. Most of them either have mundane explanations or are aliens.”

“You mean like fairies?” Owen said archly, earning a glare from the others.

“I've heard there are more things in heaven and earth,” Ianto opined.

“Jack doesn't believe in heaven either,” Owen told him. “Of course that's because he can't die, and even if he could, he wouldn't be ending up _there_.”

“Can we get back to the issue at hand?” Jack suggested archly.

“Just trying to lighten the mood.”

“Ha-Ha.”

“Then there's Morpheus, who rules over the world of dreams,” Ianto added.

“Maybe it really was a dream?” Tosh suggested. “A dream become physical.”

“Owen...” Jack began, trying the theory on for size. “After the meeting, do brain scans on us, see if there's anything unusual there.”

“That would imply some sort of... mental or psychological connection between the two of you, wouldn't it?”

Ianto cast an alarmed glance at his lover. That possibility was almost more frightening than a dream demon attacking them. Most of the time he didn't even want to be in _his_ head.

Jack didn't seem too thrilled about the prospect either. “Add psi tests to the list.”

“Wonderful,” Ianto muttered sardonically. “The Boogeyman,” he continued, “comes up in relation to the Sandman because it's said to hide under the bed waiting to attack at night. Sometimes spirit, sometimes demon. In any case, every country has their own name for the same spirit creature. In Welsh, it's Bwgan or Pwca. Ghost, goblin, imp.”

“Did you cross-reference your findings with our EBE and ENBE database?” Jack asked.

One had to humor Jack with his alien obsession and refusal to believe in anything paranormal or cryptid even if he saw it with his own eyes. Understandably, as those were things you could _fight_. How did one defeat a ghost or a boogeyman?

“I have more research to do,” Ianto admitted, adding _exorcism_ and _spells_ to his mental list. “But I found no reports of any aliens fitting our parameters.”

“Widen them.” It wasn't a suggestion.

“Did you check under your bed?” Owen asked cheekily. “Which I'm assuming was the _same_ bed, although you didn't mention that part, even though it could be important to our investigation.”

Ianto clenched his teeth but answered. “Yes, it was the same bed, Owen.”

“I didn't know you were so interested in our extracurricular activities,” Jack needled the doctor.

“That's how boring being dead is,” Owen shot back. “Write down everything you had to eat and drink yesterday. And if there's any leftovers in the Hub, I want samples to test.”

“Good idea,” Tosh complimented. “I wonder what would happen if you didn't go to sleep tonight?” she asked them.

“You mean whatever it is, might be forced to come out into the open,” Jack said, nodding. “And if it doesn't or can't, that'll give us more information to work with, too. Okay, all hands on deck tonight. It's gonna be a long one.”

Owen headed for the door so he could continue his tests. “What do you know, a reason to be glad I'm dead,” he threw over his shoulder.

“Lots of coffee then,” Ianto sighed, rising to get started.

“Make mine extra strong,” Jack told him. “I'll be right back.”

“Where are you going?”

“To check under the bed,” Jack answered with a sheepish expression.

Ianto rolled his eyes, but didn't stop him.

XXX

It was 1:00 am. Tosh was bouncing her knee uncontrollably as she helped Ianto do internet searches. Coffee overload was making her jittery. Owen was triple checking his medical results, convinced he'd missed something. Jack was pacing, staying close to the bathroom since he'd been making regular trips there all night. Ianto feared it might take a week for them to get to sleep after the sheer volume of caffeine they'd imbibed.

Something was bothering Ianto about the whole thing, but he was loath to share it until he could figure it out. Why the bizarre imagery? The songs? The dancing... Why would an alien put such strange things in a hallucination it created for them? Why wouldn't a boogeyman just attack? It had to be accessing their minds, for sure. The question was, why manifest the way it had?

Could it be part real dream, part creature? Or an alien capable of entering their dreams? Get into them and able to affect them, but not cause them? Take what was already there?

He re-read the entries open in his browser. The Sandman gives good or bad dreams, depending on what is on your mind. Mr. Sandman, as in the song, is about bringing love.

Ianto felt like he almost had his finger on the answer. Unfortunately just as he was beginning to grasp it, he gave into exhaustion and slumped onto the desk. At the exact same moment, Jack had passed out over the reports on his desk. Tosh and Owen were too distracted to notice at first, as all the lights in the Hub had gone out.

** END PART TWO **


	3. Fighting the Good Fight

_Back off boogaloo, I said back off boogaloo..._

The eerie music played so loud they could barely stand it.

_Wake up meathead, don't pretend that you are dead..._

“Not funny,” Ianto told it.

“You want us to back off, is that it?!” Jack yelled over the noise. “How about you leave _us_ alone?!”

Ianto grabbed his head in both hands, overwhelmed and confused. “Shut up!” he screamed.

Surprisingly, all fell silent, save for the echoes of the song fading into the shadows of the dream-building.

“Thanks,” Jack told him. “So I guess it is the bogeyman. Boogaloo?”

“Boogaloo is a style of dance,” Ianto informed.

“Yes, I know that, Mr. Trivia,” Jack answered irritably.

“That's it...it's trivia,” Ianto began thinking aloud. “Ringo Starr's video for that song had monsters in it. This dream, nightmare, it's a bunch of nonsense, tied together with threads of reality.”

“O—kay,” Jack's word and tone disagreed with one another. “It said wake up. How do we do that?”

Ianto stared at Jack. The pieces were coming together in his head, but the question was...if he was correct, did they have the courage it was going to take to defeat it? “I think...” Before he could finish, the growling started up again, like before. He was careful to try and stay as far away from the walls as possible this time, so as not to be in striking distance.

“Trying to scare us, is that it?!” Jack shouted angrily. “Why don't you show yourself and face us?!”

“I don't really think that's such a good—”

Before Ianto had a chance to finish, something swooped down from the ceiling, and he felt long talons swiping at his neck. Jack pushed him out of the way seconds before it would have slashed his throat.

Jack pulled Ianto behind him protectively and continued taunting the creature. “You haven't attacked _me_ yet, you coward,” he told it. “C'mon, give me your best shot!” He held out his arms in a familiar come-and-get-me gesture.

Warmth infused Ianto at Jack offering up himself to take the attention away from him, but the flash of intuition he'd gotten told him it would be futile. “Jack, listen to me,” he began urgently, grabbing his shoulders. “How do you defeat the Boogeyman?”

“If I knew that--”

“No, think!” he insisted, remembering the things he'd read on the internet. “The Boogeyman preys on fear. It creates terror. It's the nightmares we have as children, and the shadows of past trauma we carry as adults.”

Jack went still. “We're feeding it,” he realized.

Ianto nodded. “Playing right into its hands. Or claws. Or...”

“If we have to heal our past traumas before we get rid of it, we're going to be here a _long_ time,” Jack admitted with a snort. God knew they both had more than their share of those.

“No,” Ianto began, swallowing nervously. “We have to fight the fear.”

“With what?” Jack demanded.

Ianto turned and faced the blackness. He took a deep breath and let feelings of love fill him, crowding out the fear and doubt. “You have no power over me! I'm _grateful_ for the second chance I was given,” he told it, with a quick glance in Jack's direction. “I'm happy to be alive,” he insisted. “Blessed to have my family and friends. Tosh, Gwen, Owen.”

Jack caught on and followed Ianto's lead. “I'm grateful too,” he said. “For all the people I've had the opportunity to know, to love. No matter what the price, it's worth it.”

The blackness seemed to be fading, the shadows getting noticeably brighter.

Now, the hardest part. The part that caused the greatest fear, but had to be done. It was the only way to escape the clutches of doubt and negativity. Ianto grabbed Jack's face in both hands and kissed him with all of the pent-up emotions inside of him. “I love you, Jack,” he told him, struggling to defeat the terror that wanted to mute him. “More than I've ever loved _anyone_,” Ianto revealed his most closely guarded secret.

It was light enough now to see Jack's stunned look; they were connected enough to sense his inner struggle.

“I tried _really_ hard not to,” Jack admitted, resting his forehead against Ianto's. “Failed spectacularly. “I'm in love with you, too,” he confessed, just a breath against Ianto's lips, then they were kissing again.

The next thing Ianto knew, he was blinking in the bright lights of the Hub, still sitting at his station. Owen was peering at him, skin bluish in the glow from the computer monitor.

“Oi, Tosh, he's awake!” Owen bellowed, just as Toshiko and Jack came running out of the office.

“So's Jack,” Tosh announced.

“Lights are back on,” Owen added to the unnecessary pronouncements.

“I need a stiff drink,” Ianto informed them, and that was probably obvious too.

“Make mine a double,” Came wholeheartedly from Jack.

XXX

A short time later, they were back in the conference room for an informal debriefing. Even Jack had a shot of whiskey in front of him, rather than his usual water.

“Mostepians,” Tosh said, passing around the printouts she'd made. “A species that exists on wavelengths we humans can't usually interact with. Animals can sometimes sense them, maybe your cat is staring at nothing, or your dog whining in fear for no reason. No one even knows if they're from another planet, or really the bogeymen of myth. They feed on fear. Only positive emotions can defeat them.”

Toshiko had finally found a scrawled addendum in an ancient file that hadn't been categorized correctly, leading to a few more paragraphs elsewhere. They hadn't found anything on the Mostepians right away because, honestly, they usually weren't very... dangerous. Easily overlooked as mundane nuisance, some obscure footnotes to otherwise routine reports. A plague of nightmares that faded away when the sufferer dealt with them, by counseling or medication. The biggest danger was from the fear itself.

“How'd you kill it? Give it a big ol' snog?” Owen joked.

“Something like that,” Ianto said, glancing at Jack.

_ Love defeats fear. _

“Well, if that's sorted, time for Tosh to go home for a kip and me to get the hell out of here,” Owen proclaimed, rising from his seat. “Don't let the bedbugs bite,” he joked. “Or Jack,” he added mischievously.

Tosh shook her head in exasperation. “Goodnight,” she told her colleagues, following out behind Owen.

The silence in the room after they left was deafening.

Jack broke it first. “Why us?”

“I believe we're the poster children for 'past trauma'.”

“A veritable smorgasbord for the creature, then.”

Ianto gave a halfhearted laugh. It was awkward now, and he hated it. He needed to believe they would get past it though, after all, they'd overcome some pretty big fears already. What point would reluctance serve now? Still, he felt the need to be conciliatory. “Look, Jack, if you--”

Jack cut him off, but his voice was carefully casual. “That's not exactly how I would have chosen to go about it.”

“I'm sorry.” Ianto couldn't help the guilt, as if the creature had targeted him specifically, even if had been both of them. Jack had just as much reason to be attractive to the Mostepian, probably more.

“Me too,” Jack told him. “I _would_ have, you know. Eventually.”

“You would?”

“Maybe an intimate candlelight dinner, moonlight stroll...”

“Sounds romantic,” Ianto murmured, keeping the yearning from his tone.

“Not your thing, I guess,” Jack said, but with the whisper of a question behind it.

“You could try me. Sometime,” Ianto answered, with a small smile.

Jack smiled too, as he rose and headed for the door. He turned back at the threshold. “In that case, prepared to be wooed.”

Ianto watched him make his way back to the office. Then he got up too, turning off the light before leaving the room. He couldn't help wondering. Would they have ever gotten around to declarations? Or would they have waited out of fear, until it was too late?

“Thank you,” Ianto told the darkness, then he closed the door and went to join Jack.

**THE END**

9/23/19

**Author's Note:**

> Bug-a-boo: a fear presumed larger than it really is.  
Boogaloo: style of dance  
EBE: Extraterrestrial biological entity (because E.T. is so last century)
> 
> Songs: 1. Enter Sandman, Metallica. Written by Kirk Hammett, James Hetfield and Lars Ulrich. 2. Mr. Sandman, The Chordettes, written by Pat Ballard. 3. Back off Boogaloo, by Ringo Starr.


End file.
